


Stranger

by partsguy



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:14:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23975086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partsguy/pseuds/partsguy
Summary: Its been years since Endeavour pushed Joan away on the eve of their nuptials. While he had never seen fit to try to mend fences, sometimes things happen that you don't expect.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	Stranger

Stranger  
“But, it’s the night for the East Enders”!

“Morse, I don’t care if Saint Nick’s coming down your chimney with a sack! Be there!” with that Detective Superintendent Strange slammed his phone down onto the receiver. He then leaned his enormous body back in his chair, a grin of satisfaction slowly creeping across his face. Almost immediately the grin turned to a look of panic, and he once again reached for his phone and quickly dialed an internal number.

“Morse”

“Don’t bring Lewis! Give him the night off, tell him you’re going bowling, whatever. Goodbye!”

With that last detail addressed, the superintendent could finally sit back and relax. Luxuriating in the sense of a job well done.

Detective Inspector Morse sat staring at the phone on his desk. Obviously trying to figure out what had just happened. For one of the few times in his career he was both perplexed and speechless. DS Lewis, sitting across the desk from him, gave a discreet little cough, and getting no response said “Sir?”

Morse shook himself out of his reverie, seemed to remind himself of Lewis’s presence. “I think he’s past it”.

“Who Sir?”

“Strange. I’ve known him since we were both Constables. But I think he’s gone ‘round the bend”.

“Can’t be as bad as that Sir?”

“I can’t imagine what he’s playing at.” “Told me to meet him at some god-awful Italian restaurant at 8 tonight.” “Bet they won’t have a pint of real ale within a day’s drive of the place.” “And he knows I watch the East Enders on Tuesday night.” “The man deserves watching”. “Now, where were we?”

While Morse was regaling Sergeant Lewis with his tales of woe, the Superintendent was making another phone call. When the person he had dialed picked up and answered his heavily jowled face broke into a wide smile. “Hello? It’s all arranged for 8 o’clock. Are you sure that is wise?

Having listened to the answer from the person on the other end of the line he gave a shrug. “if you’re sure I won’t try to talk you out of it. You have the address? Excellent. See you then.”

Before he hung up he had to try again. “you’re really sure. I really don’t like this.”

As he hung up the phone he looked up and saw one of his Inspector’s standing in front of his desk, politely waiting. “Speak up man, what do you want?”

That evening  
Morse carefully turned the Jaguar into a parking space in front of the restaurant. He had noticed Strange’s chauffeured car parked discreetly over in one corner of the parking lot. From there Richard, if it was indeed his regular driver on duty tonight, could see the entrance and pull up to the curb when the Super came out. Morse gave a casual wave of the hand to acknowledge the driver before walking up to the entrance of the restaurant.

Before he opened the door, he reminded himself that he still had the chance to flee. To come up with some vaguely plausible excuse as to why he could not make it. Giving himself a mental kick, he straightened his back, opened the door and walked through. Once inside he quickly scanned the interior of the restaurant trying to locate Strange. Before he could locate him, he realized the décor was just as ghastly as he had imagined. Soft music was playing over the intercom, although he half expected some violin player to pop out at any second. Before the maître de could reach him, he spotted Strange tucked away in one of the corners, as always facing the door. His enormous size making the chair he was sitting in look ridiculously small.

Walking over Morse nodded to his old friend and despite his better impulses had to say. “I thought you had better taste than this, “then tried to recover by asking him “what’s this all about then?”

“Sit down Morse, important doings tonight”.

“It had better be, I can’t imagine what couldn’t have been talked about in your office” “Is there a plot to blow up the palace, or maybe somebody is stealing change from the vending machines?”

“Look Morse, I didn’t ask you out here tonight to perform some sort of comedy routine.” what do you know about wine, eh?” Without waiting for an answer he continued. “Well, pick out a nice bottle of red and have it brought over”.

“What?” “You didn’t drag me out here tonight to drink wine, did you?” “I could be at home watching East Enders, drinking my own spirits.”

Still grumbling about the need for this meeting Morse saw the maître de walking up to their table. Oblivious to Morse’s signal, the man walked up to stand at Stranger’s side, bent down and whispered something in his ear. Strange nodded, apparently indicating agreement with whatever the man had said. Then, looking in the direction of the entrance he crooked a finger as if ushering someone over.

Rising to his feet the immense man straightened his jacket, looked down at Morse, and with just the slightest hint of a smile said, “thank you for coming. I hope you have a good evening., good night”. He then proceeded to walk right past a flabbergasted Morse on his way toward the exit.

Before the befuddled Morse could gather himself, he heard Strange telling someone, “hello my dear, you look lovely tonight, why don’t you call me latter?” and a female voice that was oh, so familiar saying “hello, Jim, thank you that’s very kind. I’ll call when I get home.”

Turning in his seat to follow the voices Morse was shocked to see the profile of a woman that he hadn’t seen in over ten years and never thought he would see again. It wasn’t until she turned and started walking towards him that he believed it. A woman who was in her mid-thirties now, more mature than he remembered her, but unmistakable, nevertheless.

His surprise made him slow in rising from his seat to greet her, so she beat him to it. “Hello, Stranger”.

For the second time that day Endeavour Morse was speechless.


End file.
